Before the World was Made
by J. Maria
Summary: Lee Jordan finds more than family ghosts in his attic.


Title: Before The World Was Made

Author: Jmaria

Rating: Great potential to be an R rated fic - which means it'll likely be PG-13

Spoilers: General for the series finales of Buffy and Angel, set the summer after OotP for Harry

Disclaimer: Do I look like I'm rolling in the big bucks? Cuz I'm not. Which means that I am neither Joss or J.K.

Summary: Lee Jordan finds more than family ghosts in his attic.

A/N: Ok, insomnia works well with Edgar. Because I have had a whopping 14 plot mongooses attacking me rampantly for the last three and a half hours. Anyhoo, my annoyance with FA over another fic of mine continues, but I must thank EmmyLou who gave me the partial idea. She has a thread over there called Swimming In Plot Bunnies II, which I read for some bizarre reason. She's up to about four hundred or so, and some of them are just - wow. Anyway, I found a couple that I could either incorporate in my fics that have just not been moving or just ricocheted into various mini fics or drabbles. So this is #**55.** _Lee Jordan learns about his knack for controlling Vampires…how will this help the order? Vampires in HP are unaffected by all types of magic, freakishly strong, and very much like wild animals._

Obviously, I'm writing a crossover - so it's gonna be altered a bit. (insert evil snerk)

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THIS IS A ONE-SHOT no prequel, no sequel, no new chapters. Just wanted to get that off my chest. (now I just have to keep myself to that statement)

The title is from the poem _A Woman Young and Old_ by W.B. Yeats, which I got from _Watership Down_.

**__**

Before the World was Made

Summer holidays always seemed a bit boring. It was especially true this summer. There were no pick up Quidditch games at the Burrow, no forbidden day trips to Muggle London, no willingly being a guinea pig for his two closest mates, Fred and George Weasley.

He had to face it. Lee Jordan was bored out of his gourd. And it was only two weeks into the summer holidays - which was ironic, seeing as he didn't have to return to Hogwarts this fall.

Slouching back onto the sofa, he glared up at the ceiling. He was having a terrible vacation. First off, his best mates in the world were off making huge successes of themselves, leaving him behind. Which was incredibly selfish of himself, but he was indulging in his pity party of one. Katie Bell, the only single female chaser on the Gryffindor team and whom Lee had considered the love of his life, had been avoiding him like he had the plague. Plus there was this weird rumor going about that had her being seen in the company of Marcus Flint.

On top of all that, he was still jobless. He hadn't heard from any of the Pitches he'd applied to for the commentators positions. Which meant he was still stuck living at home with his family.

He was feeling rather a lot like the ugly stepsister in the old Cinderella fairy tale his mum used to read to his sister years ago. Overlooked, ugly, and expendable. He grabbed for a bag of pretzels, he'd stashed in the sofa that morning. As he put the first one to his lips, he heard a rather sharp yell.

"Lee Christopher Jordan, what do you think you're doing, boy?" His mother stood there, hands on her hips as she glared down at him. "Have you got nothing better to do, young man?" She demanded.

"Well, you see, Mum -"

"None of that fast talking you're famous for, Lee. I know you've nothing to keep your fancy today, so up to the attic with you."

"Mum -"

"Don't grovel and whine, Lee. It's downright pathetic." Mrs. Jordan just pointed to the stairs. "You're not a child, Lee. You've been promising to clean out the attic for weeks, since before you graduated from Hogwarts. Now, get. Time to live up to your promises."

Grudgingly, Lee dragged himself upstairs. The attic wasn't you're typical attic, but it didn't have a ghoul in it like the Weasleys' did. Just a lot of junk that had been collected throughout the years by various family members. Lee groaned. It was an awful lot of junk.

At that moment, he couldn't help it. He thought up the one phrase that is universally wrong to say, think, or even thinking about thinking it.

__

Well, it certainly can't get any worse than this.

That was when he found the book. It was buried in his great-grandmother's trunk. He'd only met the woman a grand total of two times that he could actually remember. Natasha Billows had been from somewhere in Romania before her family had moved to England and she had been accepted at Hogwarts. After her graduation, she'd been called back suddenly. She returned, married Lee's maternal great-grandfather, and had children. Natasha had been an old woman when he'd seen her last.

There were numerous pictures of her and her husband, and even more of her as a young girl in her Gryffindor robes. But buried beneath the pictures, and scraps of scarlet and gold material, an old wand, and shawls was a very old book.

Normally, Lee wasn't much of a book guy, but it seemed odd. And he was never one to ignore the highly bizarre for the simple reason that it scared him. Flipping it open, he was shocked to discover that it was handwritten. There was a few lines of an old language that he didn't know, and what seemed to be an English translation. There was a sketch of a beautiful woman, a glass orb, and a single name written beneath it.

Drusilla.

The next thing he knew, Lee was systematically arranging various other things he'd found in the trunk into a circle. Some were set floating around him in another circle. As he was chanting, the glass orb began to glow and lights began to swirl around him.

The next thing Lee knew, he was flat on his back staring up at his mother. She was giving him a shocked look.

"What did you do?"

"Cleaning the attic?" He shrugged helplessly.

__

Somewhere down in South America . . .

The dark haired beauty cowered beneath the two vampires before her. Her eyes were frantic and fear clouded them as she stared up at the dark haired vampire.

"So many little faces, clouded round my eyeballs. I'm a good girl, I never meant it." Tears clouded her eyes. "Poor little birdies, won't sing no more, and I'm to blame."

"Why does the half-breed female weep, Spike pet?" The blue figure asked from the corner.

"Don't call me pet, Blue." Spike spat at the figure. "Someone gave her back her soul."

"The question is who? Who was stupid enough to restore _her_ soul?" Angel bent before the sobbing Drusilla, who recoiled at his touch.

"Little man, silly book, silly girl - once upon a time." Drusilla shook back and forth.

Spike stared at her oddly. For a hundred years they'd been together, save for the last six or so, and even know he could barely understand the loopy bint. A thought hit him.

"If she's got her soul, does that mean she's eligible for your shanzhu deal, Peaches?"

"Shut up, Spike."

__

Behind the Veil

Natasha had watched her best friend die as a young girl, as the vampire had killed her, then changed her. She remembered the wise woman in the gypsy caravan she'd met as a child, and sought her out to help restore her friend to life. All the gypsy could offer was to restore her friend's soul. It took Natasha half her life to translate it, the other to track down the vampire.

Now, as she gazed down from her place in heaven, she saw her grandson do what she could not. He redeemed a young witch who never knew her true potential. And she smiled. Who said the Powers didn't have a master plan after all?

A/N2: the spell that he does (but that you don't hear him say) is the restoration spell Willow used in season two, though you probably already figured that out.


End file.
